


Silk and Golden Smoke

by dachenabritta, labellecastle



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Nightclub AU, Paris - Freeform, drinks and dancing, set in the 1920's- 1930's ish, they both own nightclubs that are competing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-25 15:57:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6201661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dachenabritta/pseuds/dachenabritta, https://archiveofourown.org/users/labellecastle/pseuds/labellecastle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two of Paris's hottest clubs, Le Baton and Yo-Yo are just as unique as their owners. What will happen when the competition between the two gets a little heated?<br/>A 1920's - 1930's Parisian nightclub au, very much inspired by Panic! At the Disco's But it's Better if You do and the movie Midnight in Paris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> hello it is me dachenabritta. i havent really ever made a series or anything like this before so go easy on me peeps. this entire au was me just realy really loving 1920's Paris and wanting to give a new dynamic to the love square. im probabaly gonna go back and edit later because i tend to make a lot of mistakes. shout out to labellecastle my beta reader and my fave ginger. 
> 
> enjoy!

    The evening was golden. Damp cobblestones lined the streets, sidewalks slick with the recent rainfall. Even though it was the dead of night, buildings glowed warmly, music pulsed through the walls and doors. The dark sky was littered with stars, matching the hue of the nightclub Adrien walked towards. His dark trench coat hugged around his torso and fluttered at his knees. He hopped down the paved steps towards the vibrating door and entered with a light push. Looking up from his gaze, he saw the club in its full glory.

   

     The club was filled to the brim with bustling people. The long hallway where he stood led to the actual dancing room and was softly lit with a red tint bleeding across the striped wallpaper. The rug below Adrien was that of an oriental style with golden and bronze patterns tracing along its surface. While striding his way towards the entrance, he carefully slipped his trench coat off his elongated body, and wrapped the garment around his arm. Coat in hand, he payed the man guarding the door and entered the glowing room. He could taste the sweat in the air, with the scent of whiskey and cinnamon pinching his nose. Men and women were dancing hand in hand, twirling and dipping in a frantic pace.

 

    Even though he may have looked unusual to be standing alone in a Parisian nightclub with no friends or woman at his side, he had his reasons. His goal greatly outweighed the odd looks he was receiving by both men and women alike. Adrien sifted through the crowd of pearls and suspenders, landing a place at the bar. He traced his hand along the marble top, awing at its quality and coloring. Just by looking at the bar alone, there was definitely a lot of money poured into this joint.

     He then remembered as to why he decided to visit the warmly lit dance hall. Adrien himself was the owner of a popular club, just 4 blocks away from the one he was currently sitting at. His club _, Le Bâton_ had been the hottest joint for a while, with an extremely popular band, good booze and the overall feeling of the party. The only problem was his father had only let him open the club if he remained under an alias. He could not risk dragging the Agreste name down with the club possibly failing at one point, or if it ever had a large enough scandal. Even though business was fairly successful, Adrien did start to notice something for the last couple weeks. Business had gone down, seeing as less and less guests would reappear each night. Around a week ago, he seeked the source of his demise and asked some of his buddies on poker night, who knew he owned the club, late after _Le Bâton_ closed for the night.

“You want to know what’s happening?” replied Nino, one of his oldest friends. “ _She’s_ selling you out!”

Thoroughly confused by Nino’s statement, Adrien glanced at the faces of the other men, who seemed to nod in agreement.

“Who’s _she_?”

Nino swiveled in his seat, turning his whole body towards the blond. “They call her Ladybug. She’s the one who owns the new club, _Yo- Yo_ down Rue Joubert. It’s becoming one of Paris’s hottest joints! I’m surprised you actually hadn’t heard of it.”

So much of what Nino said surprised Adrien. A woman? Running such a popular club? And how was she buying out more people than him? His club had been open for far longer than her’s.

Even though he was pretty surprised and even a bit angry, Adrien decided that all’s fair in love and war. She must have something that he doesn’t have…right?

  


                         And that’s how Adrien, prestigious owner of a multi-million nightclub, somehow ended up in his opponent’s creation.

 

    He looked all around, trying to find clues to her success. The actual club was well put together, with red velvet couches and chairs lining the back walls with black, wooden tables in front of most of the furniture. Red chandeliers with diamonds that seemed to be dripping down the structure swayed in an unknown breeze. The wallpaper and curves of the ceiling and doors all had Chinese-style construction to them, with hints of gold gleaming on their brims. Cherry colored carpet lined most of the floor, except for the large dancing floor that was a deep stained oak. The place seemed very… _Chinese_. Like it shouldn’t belong in France or even Europe in that matter. Why would the owner decorate in a Chinese fashion?

   His question was suddenly answered when a body sat next to him at the adjacent bar stool. Adrien’s eyes peered over to the seat next to him, expecting another outlier or stranger, but what he discovered was something much, much more.  

   His eyes climbed up the satin red gown that draped over her long, sleek legs like a waterfall, past her milky white arms, tracing her sharp collarbones and finally resting on her soft-featured face. A hard, satin mask fixated itself across the bridge of her nose, sprawling across her vivid blue eyes. Her red silk fingered gloves rested under  her chin as she asked for her drink, lips dancing and smirking as she smoothly spoke. She didn’t really seem to notice him sitting there, as she was oblivious to his stare. _I think I may know why people come to this place…_

 

    Finally catching on to the burning stare she was receiving, the woman slowly took notice of a blushing man with cheekbones cut like a crease and his emerald eyes. His blonde hair was fluffy, yet tamed causing a perfect contrast to his well tanned skin. With a thud, her drink appeared in front of her and she lifted the glass carefully to her wine stained lips.Still holding his gaze, she downed the cup and let it land next to his gloved hand. After she cleared her throat free of the hard liquid, she finally spoke out to the silence, “You gonna say something,? Or are you just gonna stare, love?”

 

Adrien shook his head a bit out of his trance and snapped his previously agape mouth shut. He quickly broke eye contact with her, searching the ground for words, running possible responses through his mind. All he could stutter out was a “Sorry” while nervously rubbing the back of his neck and waiting for her to speak to him again. How could he stare at her like that so rudely?

 

“It’s alright. I guess I’m a little used to it”, she warmly retracted. A sigh escaped her lips as she leaned a bit backward away from the bar, stretching her arms ; her very perfectly shaped and curved arms…

 

She placed a hand directly in front of his gaze, hoping he would follow her notion. Adrien lifted her palm and sleek fingers into his own and pressed the red satin to his lips.

“Ladybug.” she softly whispered out.

“Pardon?”

She smirked a bit as she took note of his surprised visage.“My name is Ladybug. And you are…?”

Finally comprehending what she was asking him, Adrien set both of their hands down onto his lap and he blushed yet again.

“I’m Adrien. Adrien Agreste.”

Humming with a bit of satisfaction she lifted herself off the bar stool and withdrew her hand off his lap, only to place her digits under his chin.

“Well, Monsieur Agreste, I hope you enjoy my little slice of heaven in which I call my club. _Yo-Yo_ is glad to have you here.”

Removing her gloved hand from his chin, she paced herself away from the bar and the blonde at slow rate, swaying her hips at the rhythm of the band.

Glancing back around to face him, Ladybug echoed back to him:

“And so am I.”

  



	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> well y'all asked for it so y'all shall receive  
> SUPER THANKFUL to labellecastle, my beta reader. i luv u

         Ladybug was still holding her breath when she parted the velvet curtains and entered the lounge. She leaned her exposed back and tipped her head against the wall, letting a sigh escape her lips. Adrien’s image was still burning freshly in the corner of her mind, searing through her thoughts and mind. Despite the fact that very few words actually passed between their lips, there was still the blatant fact that he was handsome beyond compare, and she wasn’t going to be shaken from that image of him anytime soon.

         Smoothing the silk fabric of her gown and reaching up to make sure no strands of hair had escaped, Ladybug prepared her search for a certain redhead. The club was bustling tonight, with people downing drinks faster than their wallets and dancing so wildly, she could almost smell the rubber of their soles burning. Smoke filled the eloquent lounge room, bouncing off the gold rimmed walls and swelling near the doors and ceiling. Waving her hand through the smoke to clear her vison, Ladybug moved further in searching for her ever, missing manager, Alya. Scanning the faces of her guests and workers, she finally spotted the cocoa skin and dark purple dress, hugged tightly around a curved waist and draping down smooth legs. Alya’s bubbling laughed poured from her lips as she rested a hand on the man sitting directly to her right, and as her laugh faded, she gently plucked his cigarette from his lips to hers. Ladybug merely scoffed at her friend while as she approached her.

“Having fun I see?”

Alya’s eyes peered up to meet the mischievous and deviant grin that was slowly starting to show on Ladybugs mouth. Flirting with the customers wasn’t always discouraged, but as the manager Alya had other duty’s she should have been seeing to.

 “I just needed a break, you know? Gotta give a girl a little room to breathe, right?” The hopeful joke did not come across as the brunette had hoped.

         Coughing through the thick layer of fog, Ladybug spat out “I think breathing is the last thing you’d want to do in here.” She reached out and set her hand on Alya’s arm that had just relinquished her cigarette to an ash tray, “I need to chat with you.” Both ladies stood and left the obviously relaxed gentleman with his drink.

          Ladybug led them both to the back room of the club, up the creaking steps past the lavish employee’s room and to her windowed office door, closing the door shut behind them. They entered her cluttered office, Papers were spread across the room and her desk, articles of clothing piled themselves across the dark pink chaise in the corner and the windows on the back wall welcomed evening light into the office, blending with the golden hue her desk lamp provided. Ladybug slipped the mask off her powdered face and unzipped her dress a bit. She leaned into her chair behind the bureau. Alya headed towards the chaise in routine fashion, and kicked her nearly worn through black satin shoes off her feet.

         “So,” she announced to Alya, “I’ve been doing a bit of research and I came across a nearby club, it’s about four blocks away. Even though we are receiving equal and sometimes larger amounts of guests than they are, I was thinking I should check it out, you know, see if they’ve got anything we don’t?”

         Alya raised an eyebrow towards her. “Are you talking about _Le Bâton_?”

“Yes. Apparently the club’s owner goes by an alias as well, which I found rather interesting.” She searched through her brain, trying to remember his stage name. “Something about ‘Noir’ or…”

Alya seemed to catch on as to who she was talking about then quietly spat out: “You’re talking about Chat Noir, owner of _Le Bâton._ ”

“Oui, Oui!” she exclaimed, snapping a finger towards Alya, “That’s it! I’ve had his name on the tip of my tongue all week.” The red headed girl sighed in response, “Why are you telling me all these things I already know? What are you planning Marinette…”

         Ladybug, or rather Marinette now that the mask was off, twilled her pen between her fingers and hummed out a bit. “Nothing too drastic. Just possibly checking out the venue and band. Maybe even prices.”

“And you’re going there _sans_ mask, right? You can’t possibly show up in your Ladybug getup.”

“Nope”, Marinette exclaimed proudly, “I’m going naked.”

“Please do wear some sort of clothes, girl.” Alya snickered back.

 “Ugh! You know what I meant!”

Marinette closed her eyes and leaned back as the sounds of the club bellow her started to fade from her ears.

 

* * *

 

       

  Making her way down Rue Joubert, Marinette rounded the corner and skidded her feet along the sidewalk. Lights reflected off the pavement, painting their gleaming colors along the road. A few jolting automobiles passed the girl, causing a slight breeze to shiver the air. She passed the now closed restaurants, hauntingly different when empty, while some still glowed a silent “welcome”. It’d been rainy for the past couple days but, the evening brought a dewy peace. Clouds were scarce, yet many stars were not visible. Marinette continued down the street, searching for her opponent’s club. Her heels clicked down onto the cement, emitting an echo with each step. Finally catching sight of a vivid green stripe racing down the side of a brick building, her black lined eyes read the name placed atop.

         _Le Bâton_ had a single door. No music or light radiated off the building. The whole setting seemed a little, well, _dull._ Marinette took a deep breath as her hand grasped the door handle. With a fairly hard tug, the heavy door tore open, revealing the club’s true nature.

         Unlike _Yo-Yo,_ there was no hallway leading to the main location. At a podium stood the bouncer, who, with one glance at the beautiful foreign woman, let Marinette in for free. She kindly thanked him, bowing her head a bit and proceeded to enter the venue.

         The club, in her opinion, was beautiful. Bricks lined the walls and a second story hovered over the outskirts of the main sitting area. The bar was located next to a rather extravagant stage with black and gold curtains hanging at the height of the structure. Tan couches and chairs were scattered neatly, paired with silver tables. On the railing of the second floor the same metallic silver was plated in a linear fashion, giving the outline of the club a reflective gleam. Even though _Yo-Yo_ was doing better than him, the amount of people greatly outweighed the number of seats and tables. People were mostly drinking and chatting rather than dancing, with booze coating every table and hand. Marinette stood by the entrance, studying the layout and details of the club, ignoring the people surrounding her. She was looking for anything that may be fascinating or outrageous. Anything that might-

         Her thoughts were cut off when a body holding a drink crashed onto her side. The drink splashed a bit onto Marinette’s jacket and fringed skirt. She tilted a bit backwards from the weight and her heeled foot tripped over the other. Marinette awaited the hard thud against the ground until a set of strong arms caught her small waist and wrist.

         Crooking her head upwards to glance up to the torso above hers, Marinette caught sight of a black leather mask hugging electric green eyes. A structured hat with matching leather cat ears sat atop his head as he smiled a pearly grin down at her. Helping Marinette up, she restored her balance and took in the man. A black long sleeved button up hung loosely on his shoulders, and black slacks with a green belt clasped around his hips. There was a nagging thought at the back of Marinette’s head, almost a thought of recognition.

         Talking her milky white hand in his, he bowed his head down a bit and looked back up towards her sapphire eyes.

“Chat Noir. Nice to meet you.”

        


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette has a bit of a conversation with a certain cat and drinks are shared.  
> Finally some Marichat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so sorry its been a while since I updated. I've been quite sick and I'm finally well enough to do something useful. I'm adding my beta reader, labellecastle, as a co-author just cause some of the stuff she adds is so great I just HAVE to put it in. thanks ginger ;D  
> anyways enjoy

         Within the aura of the club, Marinette noticed two things. First, the wooden panels surrounding the bottom of _Le Baton’s_ bar counter were much out of date and the stain was incorrect and second; there was a broad, blond man with night black cat ears and matching mask before her.

 

         Marinette didn’t quite catch his greeting the first time he spoke up, so he snapped his fingers in front of her pressing eyes, hoping to click the beautiful girl back to earth. Her eyes bolted up from their wandering stance and his introduction finally registered.

 

          So _this_ was Chat Noir. A scrawny, pasty, white rich boy who gave out the shittest grin she’d ever seen. But, since Marinette was a polite and gentle girl, unlike her alter ego, she bowed her head a little as thanks then proceeded to turn fully around and walk straight towards the exit. Rolling her eyes, Marinette knew there was no way in hell she’d get caught up with the actual owner of the club. What if he found out she was the prestigious and ever elegant Ladybug? He’d taunt her, make fun of her and be an all-around nuisance. As Marinette headed towards the silver brimmed doors, she heard a faint cry of the man while she practically shoved her way through alcohol glazed breaths and feverish bodies. Finally close to the door, Marinette placed her hand on the handle with the intent to fly out of the club, when a gloved hand was wrapped firmly around her wrist.

 

 

          Chat Noir stared down at the tiny, raven haired woman as she squinted her eyes at him with questionable fury, trying not to stare at her subline figure. He glanced her up and down, waiting for her to make some kind of remark at him or say really anything. Finally breaking the complete silence, except for the distant jazz beat thumping at the walls, he asked, “Wait, where are you going?” his tone concerned yet curious.

         The girl yanked her wrist out of his grip and stared back up to his electric green eyes. “I’m leaving” she said in a cold manner. “Because you’re Chat Noir. I have no business with you. Good Night.”

         Now even more confused than before, Chat Noir chased after the girl once again, slamming the door shut at the same time she attempted to pull it open. Now annoyed to the extreme, she ignored him and decided to tug even harder at the bronze handle, hoping to make it budge but, Chat Noir’s skinny and somehow toned arms kept the only exit shut. The girl finally sighed and swore in Chinese under her breath with an outraged puff.

“What do you want you dumb cat?” She spat out.

Acting offended by her words in both Chinese and French, he grabbed at his chest and responded, “I am hurt, my princess. All I want to know is your name. And maybe…”

“Maybe what?” she said before he could finish.

“Maybe share a drink and dance with me. I wouldn’t be lying if I said you were perhaps the most beautiful woman to ever step foot in this club.”

 

 

          Marinette was about 150% done with this guy at this point. His personality gleamed cheesy, rude and showcased him as an overall an ass. But, a free drink would maybe be enough for her to stay. Why spend money on your own booze when your competitor will buy it for you? Chat Noir will be wasting his money and not hers. Marinette brushed her bangs back and turned to fully face him with her arms crossed. “Fine.” She responded, “But, I’m only doing it for the free drink. Not for you.”

           “Fine by me” he purred back, holding out a hand to guide her to the bar. Marinette scoffed as she plopped her milky palm into his leather one and he led her to one of the silky black stools that were strewn parallel to the bar top. She smoothed her pale pink skirt or her lap as she sat, hoping to occupy herself so Chat wouldn’t have to. Tonight, Marinette was wearing a knee length shift dress that was the color of cherry blossoms in the spring, with a white fringe grazing itself along the edge of the dress and a black sweater that hung low on her petite frame and torso. Her legs crossed one over the other as her heels smacked against the stool next to her. Chat Noir didn’t really notice though, as he was busy ordering drinks for the two of them. He wistfully spun back towards her and he leaned the side of his torso into the bar. Chat Noir’s elbow was plopped on the counter top and his hand was pushed into his hair, holding the top half of his body upright. The drinks slid over to their positions and as he reached or the drinks, Marinette was quick and seized her glass before his hand was even near it. Like lightning, the glass was bolted to her lips and she downed the entire glass in one gulp.

Gawking at her speed, Chat Noir spoke up to her, “That was maybe the fastest I’ve ever seen someone down a shot that fast, Miss…?”

“Marinette,” wiping the liquid residue from her lip. “And if I’m going to spend my evening chatting with you, I’m going to need another.”

          A little hurt, but cheerful all the same, Chat Noir was happy to now know her name, even though she had basically insulted him right to his face. He ordered another round and this time Marinette sipped from her glass, taking in the soothing poison that slid down her throat, instead of hungrily swallowing it in one gulp. Now that she seemed a little more at ease, Chat Noir decided to ask her the second favor.

“So…Marinette.” Chat’s words glided out of his mouth in a silky fashion. “The band is gonna open up the dance floor in a couple of minutes and I don’t know if…”

          Marinette cut him off once again. “I’ll dance with you, Chat Noir. But, only because you carry some damn fine whiskey and I’d like to show my gratitude.” Chat Noir visibly sprang up from his bar stool and she grabbed onto his arms as he escorted them to the oak dance floor. They joined hands, with the others on a waist or shoulder. Swinging wildly back and forth, Marinette’s pink dressed rippled in movement as Chat twirled her around, rotating his wrist as he did so. They fell back into the back and forth rhythm of the band, doing a few kicks here and there, swinging their arms out as they did so. For a girl who seemed to hate Chat Noir so much, the gleam in her eyes seemed to tell quite the opposite story. Marinette laughed and giggled, dancing along to the fast tempo rhythm forgetting her worries for a moment. That was until it dawned on her what exactly she was doing. Marinette was swing dancing with her #1 enemy in the business world. She can’t be doing this! Her revelation hit her like a train and she let go of Chat Noir’s grasp as her smile faded and her head turned towards the exit. Marinette bowed her head once again, and before Chat could say anything or pull her back, she flew through the crowd, running straight out the brass handled door. Praying he wasn’t following her, Marinette rushed into the alley adjacent to the club and hid herself in the building’s shadow. Not even seconds later, Chat Noir burst through the exit, frantically searching for a tiny frame and dark hair. His head whipped back and forth, his body wilting a bit when he noticed Marinette was long gone. Chat swayed downward as he turned around and pushed the club door back open, letting light and music crawl onto the street. The silver door shut with a creak, echoing a thud throughout the Parisian night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst? idk


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the midst of a Parisian market Marinette spots a blonde who she isn't supposed to know outside of a mask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so its been a bit but new chapter! buckle your seat belts people, this story is gonna get some plot

The fresh, crisp air of the Sunday morning bit Marinette’s rosy cheeks as she pulled her apartment door taught. Beams of golden sunlight scattered their way through the thick canopy of the vibrantly green trees lining the road and as a few leaves blew across the grooved street. Dressed in a slightly sheer black chiffon dress that ended mid-thigh trailing downward to tights that met with a thick black seam up the back of her leg and faded into her almost knee high black boots that had laces running all up the front, and a pink scarf expertly wrapped around her neck, Marinette strolled down Rue du Juillet towards the morning farmer's market that was only a short walk away.

 

Black hair tangled across her forehead and caught a bit on her rose scarf as Marinette finally approached the wooden stalls topped in stripes and scalloped edged tops. The market was bustling with a sea of Parisians all there to purchase ingredients for the night’s dinner and possibly a few things to use throughout the next coming days. On Sundays, the market doubled from its normal size and contained greater amounts of specialty items. Seeing the stand she usually went to in complete chaos with customers, Marinette headed over to a fruit stand with peaches and nectarines and gazed at the endless layers upon layers of sweet pinks and orange hues that blended together. The man running the stand handed a paper bag filled with fragrant fruit to a short plump man in a lumpy red sweater giving him a dull smile muttering an unimpressed “merci”. The irritable stand owner turned to Marinette asking if she wanted anything so she removed her hand from grazing the soft fuzz of a peaches skin and politely declined, moving forward to whatever stand waited up ahead for her.

 

Marinette found herself walking towards a legume stand with everything organized by color creating a rainbow of produce. The vegetables were sprawled across the oak crates, reds and oranges splashed on one side followed by yellows and greens, ending in deep purples. Looking around to see if anymore vegetable stands were nearby, or nearly as visually stunning, Marinette looked farther up the street seeing not another a stand, but something even better.

 

Up ahead lay a tall figure dressed in a sharply cut dark blue jacket with golden hair that illuminated in the few rays of sun peering through the typical grey soft clouds. Marinette’s blue eyes became electric as her gaze continued to admire the handsome blonde she hadn't expected to see again so soon.

 

Adrien pondered through a local cheese stand, seeming to look for a particular type. His eyes crooned downwards, nearing the cheese, he took a sniff but then revoltingly shot back up. Adrien then went on to purchase six large wheels of Camembert, holding them as far away from himself as he could when handing them over for the price to be calculated. Marinette found this scene quite odd, since he seemed to dislike the pungent cheese so much.  
  


Holding his paper bags full of freshly wrapped cheese, Adrien proceeded to walk straight back into the crowd, lost in the growing sea of people. Marinette quickly followed, diving in herself, swimming past the soap stands and livestock, until she reached the point where Adrien was last seen. She stood by the cheese stand, twirling around in attempt to catch a glimpse of his sunshine hair. Marinette stood for a couple minutes, patiently keeping an eye out, while shadows of elevated clouds passed over the booths.

 

A beam of sun made its way directly towards Marinette’s eyes as she tried to partially shade them with her hand, while she turned the other direction. The only thing Marinette was met with was a face full of navy blue wool.

  
Looking up frantically, Marinette's mouth started to form an apology to the random person she'd just rammed into but her words died out on the tip of her tongue when she realized the who the blue wool belonged to. Gazing down at her with equal shock stood Adrien, knowing very well exactly who she was.

  
But, _Chat Noir_ knew who Marinette was, not Adrien.  
  


And _Ladybug_ knew who Adrien was, not Marinette.  
  
They stood in the middle of the bustling marketplace, just looking at each other, realizing their precarious dilemma. Both of them blushed profusely, and muttered out an inaudible apology as Marinette frantically waved her hands in talkative motion, causing Adrien to have a similar action, except with bags full of cheese still in his now moving hands.  
  


The cheese burst through the paper bags tumbling everywhere on the street. Marinette nearly screamed as her hands rushed up to her mouth to stifle a laugh before bending down and rushing to help him pick up the wheels of cheese.  
  


"I'm so sorry about this!" Marinette stuttered, "I shouldn't have caved, er, waved! my hands so crazily!"  
Adrien just smiled back at her. "It's alright," he piped out fairly quiet, "It's not for me anyway. Thank you...uh...?”  
"Oh, uh, Marinette!" She squealed, "I'm Marinette, that’s me!" She tried to maintain her smile despite the frantic manner that the words came out of her mouth. She felt like an absolute idiot.   
"Well," he said as he helped her up, "Thank you very much, Marinette.  I'm Adrien, by the way."

  
Marinette froze as Adrien still held her hand. His tan, sun kissed hand compared vastly to Marinette's China doll shade. When Marinette realized she was staring at their hands, she quickly withdrew hers and glanced back up at her new _acquaintance_. “Nice to meet you, Adrien. I'll see around, I uh guess?" She finally stuttered out. He merely nodded and started walking the opposite direction, away from the flow of people. All that stood still in the vast motion was one very love-struck Marinette.  
  


 

  
  
Yo-Yo was bustling tonight. The bar was packed and overflowing with excited and lively customers, the dance floor literally couldn't fit anymore dancers and Ladybug was enjoying her very entertaining evening perched above the club, overlooking the glory created by her. She sat with a Scotch and cigar, swaying a bit to the swing Jazz that filled the room to the point where it would almost bust.

 

Today had been an unexpectedly good day. There was a good deal at the market on red bell peppers, the club had filled quickly and swiftly, per usual now, and she'd run into the boy she had been dreaming about for days. A smile stretched widely as she thought about Adrien. She thought about his warm smile and gentle touch, and the fact that they hadn't mealy brushed hands. He had left his wrapped around hers while her eyes had remained focused upon the his; which were the brightest shade of green. Not like moss, or even fresh grass, they held a light that she somehow couldn’t explain. Then for some reason she made the choice to pull away from their contact and began stuttering out words with no sense. She needed to see him and his angelic eyes again, see more of his lightly tanned skin, and see his hair ruffled from the glowing perfection it had been in earlier.   
Ladybug was knocked from her dream world when she heard a loud thud and crash from her office. She set down her nearly empty drink and unused cigar, pulling her black dress up past her feet, and walked past the velvet curtains of her perch. Ladybug ran as fast as she could in her heels down the hallway, turning the corner to her office. The doorknob had been completely ripped out and the door swung wide open. Cautiously tiptoeing into the mess of papers and clothes, Ladybug looked around her highly disheveled office, taking note of chairs flipped over and drawers ripped open. She turned around and headed past the chaise that had been moved over, seeing what she feared the most. The door to her safe stood open, completely empty except for a silk fan and piece of paper. Her hands ran over the smooth, empty box as her breath got shorter and shorter. Ladybug covered her eyes, sucking in air as her eyes began to well up with tears. She knew she'd been stupid not putting her money in the bank. She's kept months and months profit in there, and now she was clean swept. Ladybug collapsed to the floor, a sobbing, wrinkled dress heap. Her tears ran down her ring laced fingers and dropped onto her beaded midnight black satin dress. She sat there for a bit until Alya entered the room, looking for her. "Marinette, what the hell- Oh my God!" screeched Alya. Alya immediately went over to Ladybug, rubbing her back and trying to move her hands away from her face."  
"Alya..." Ladybug hiccupped, "We've been robbed."

 

  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slams fist on table* PLOT PLOT PLOT


	5. V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug must strike a deal, and Chat Noir is desperate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehe...so it's been a year. sorry my dudes. i kinda forgot about this but then I BECAME INSPIRED  
> so happy late birthday and sorry????  
> plz expect weekly updates after this  
> -dachenabritta

          Adrien was never fond of early morning shoots. Although magazines were not at their all time popular, his father was still able to book him loads of commercial shoots to keep him busy. Adrien didn’t usually mind having photos taken of him-it’s just that today’s shoot started at 8 am. And he’d been entertaining at Le Baton until 4 am. Today was going to be a day for lots of concealer.The studio which he entered was in utter chaos, lights strewn across miles of cords, people frantically shuffling from the set-up to makeup, then back to lighting, then to the director. Adrien had never seen such clutter and disorder in a photo shoot and there had to be a reason why. He looked around for someone who looked somewhat sane and sitting still, and his gaze caught a middle-aged woman, tapping a pencil to her chin while looking over a list. Politely, he approached her, with the intent of getting an answer.

“Excuse me...” Adrien softly said, “But, why is the studio in such a mess? Did a brand or director cancel?”  
The woman snorted a little bit, looking up and realizing she was talking to the literal star of the ad. She cleared her throat and stood up straighter, attempting to regain her formality.  
“Well...” she started, “our main dresser and designer called in an at-home emergency. She couldn’t make it this morning. She didn’t say why she couldn’t make it, I heard that her home was robbed.”  
“Oh” is all Adrien could respond with. He guessed that made sense.

     The shoot did continue, but it was an utter, unprofessional mess the entire time. It was a cigar ad, and even though Adrien did enjoy an English Cigar every moon or two, he grew quite sick of smoking this cigar the amount of times that he did. Adrien ended his smoky, sweaty day just to leave to a smoky, sweaty night. Le Bâton’s dropping audience was starting to put a bit of weight on Adrien’s shoulders. He was too far in the competition against Ladybug at this point, and even though he was charming and handsome, he didn’t think he had enough charisma to woo Ladybug and make a peace treaty. They were, after all, in the same business. Chat Noir gazed around his club. He lived for the ever-pulsing music, the sweet and tangy smell of alcohol in the air and the nightlife that flooded it day after day. This club meant so much to him and the feeling of failure tugged at his heart in almost the same way Ladybug did. It’s not like the solution to his club’s problems was going to march right in and-  
                                                                                                                                           BAM  
          Le Bâton’s front steel door slammed open, with a gust of cold air and street light following suite. A darkened silhouette came forward through the entrance, into the light, and it was none other than  
                                                                                                                     Ladybug: the one, and the only.  
          There she stood, in a floor length and long sleeve gown, with French Valice lace wrapped skin tight around every curve. A black fur and chiffon cape hung upon her shoulders, dragging as a slow train as she walked towards Chat Noir’s lounge. And to top off her look, a black and red jewel incrusted mask sat on her skin, covering her eyes and nose, to a point where he couldn’t even see the blue or white of her eyes.  
          The entire club was chattering quietly, observing her every move. Ladybug’s eyes searched the tables and chairs, stopping when they lay on her target. She continued to pace forward as people separated in her path yet continued to party. Every quiet step was a thunder in the club; it was clear Ladybug had made an image of herself quite well in the public’s eye.

                                                                                                                Wait, why was Ladybug in _his_ club?  
          Chat Noir sat relaxed, at first, in his lounging deck, a glass of wine in front of him to flush his system out from the multiple cigars through the day. When it finally hit him, that Ladybug was coming towards him with the seeming intent of communicating and visiting him, he shot straight up and dragged a nearby silver chair in front of his ash tray table. As she traveled up the three or so steps onto the lounge, he stood by the chair, with one hand out for grasp and the other welcoming her into the seat. Her lace-gloved hand took it gently, sending Chat Noir a message that she was here because she wanted something. He had no idea how right he was.

_This is going to be an interesting conversation_ they both thought.

“Well”, began Ladybug, a bit more harshly than he expected.  
“Well.” He bluntly responded back.

          Ladybug cleared her throat a bit, regaining her high-end composure. “Chat Noir, I have heard much about you. I am very aware that we are currently competitors, but I am here on account that my club has experienced a bit of trouble in the past few days.”

          “Trouble?” he asked, “Of what kind?” Chat Noir knew he should have been more snippy and harsh with his enemy, but that dress just did her so much justice…  
She cleared her throat once more, snapping him out of the red and scarlet haze surrounding him. “My club was recently robbed, and I cannot fund the club to be currently open.”

          Chat Noir started to listen a bit more intently. It was quite strange that he was hearing about 2 robberies in the same day, but the thought passed his mind. “And why would I help you, Your Grace? I will now be receiving two times the customers I did before! This is the solution I’ve been waiting for.” Chat Noir could feel his victory on the tip of his tongue.  
          Expecting her to be sad and dissatisfied with his response, Chat Noir was astonished when her rouged cheeks formed a rather evil smirk. “But your audience,” she slyly began, “has now tasted what I offer and cannot go back to this palette” as she waved her hands towards the dance floor. She was correct, after all. Even though Yo-Yo was closed tonight, he still saw a decrease of club goers. Chat Noir was officially stuck. And once you had a taste of what this Goddess had to offer, he could see why returning back here would be a treatment of disgust.  
There was momentary silence as Adrien realized that to save his club, he was going to have to follow her game of Bug-whatever that may be, and make sure she did not discover who he is. His green eyes sat in his ashtray, clean and clear, debating whether this was his only option. After a minute of pondering Adrien realized that he literally had no other ideas. He was going to have to be her pawn.

His eyes then reached to hers. “So, what are you proposing?” he asked.

“A show” Ladybug calmly said. “You get a huge audience due to my presence, and I receive half the profit”.

“A show of what? A band? A dancer? Unoriginal acts like that come and go through here every night.”

 

The evil smirk returned once again. “Oh, no”, she trailed, “I have a much better act than anything you’ve seen before, Kitty”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's this show gonna be???? ITS GONNA BE LIT


End file.
